We Found Kobe Bryant’s Other Retirement Poem

It’s not about basketball.
www.thedrive.com

Share

Three years ago, Kobe Bryant paid $329,000 for a brand new Ferrari 458 Italia. He definitely wrote this, but he might or might not have written this:

Dear Ferrari 458,

From the moment

I started taking joy rides in my dad’s Buick Electra

And accelerating with nonexistent horsepower

On Roosevelt Boulevard

I knew one thing was real:

I needed to get the hell out of this Buick Electra.

And so, I gave basketball my all—

From my mind & body

To my spirit & soul.

As a six-year-old boy

Deeply in love with cars beyond General Motors’ Malaise Era

I dreamed of Ferraris.

I saw myself getting into one,

Mocking my dad and his lame-ass Buick Electra.

And so I ran.

I ran up and down every court

After every loose ball.

Your MSRP demanded my hustle

I gave up my left leg

Because Ferrari dealers will literally exact body parts from clients.

I drove through sun and moon

Not because Ferraris melt in the rain,

But because I am fanatical about YOUR upkeep.

I did everything for YOU

Because that’s what you do

When a Ferrari makes you feel as

Alive as you’ve made me feel.

You gave a six-year-old boy his Ferrari dream

And I’ll always love you for it.

I will love you obsessively for ever.

This season is my last in basketball.

My heart cannot take the strain

My loins cannot stand the pain

Of being far from my super-gorgeous, $329,000 Ferrari 458.

I will never say goodbye.

And that’s OK.

I will let personal relationships, my career, professional endorsements and

All other facets of my rich life wither on the vine.

I’m ready to let that go.

I want you to know now

So we can both savor every moment we will have together

Until the sun falls out of orbit, Hell freezes over and

My dad gets rid of that stupid Buick Electra.

And we both know, no matter what I do next

I’ll always be that kid

With the keys to a Buick Electra

Getting harrassed by my high school friends about

Driving a Buick Electra to a party, even though

I brought the beer.

Five hours until my parents got home

Driving a Buick

Wheel in my hands

Ten mph… 20… 30… 40… 45.

Buick Electras don’t really get past 45.

—Kobe